#Open: Martín

[radicalrascals]

Open: our muses hide from an evil supernatural force or monster in a motel in the middle of nowhere - only problem: Miguel is a hunter who hates the supernatural, Martín is secretly a nahual who's not the biggest fan of hunters Looking for: other hunters or other supernaturals, nice ones or evil | happy for a 2 on 2 Muse: Juan Martín, doctor | fc: Gael García Bernal & Miguel Guerrero, hunter | fc: Diego Luna

Martín pressed the rag carefully against the wound of his patient, his fingers surprisingly gentle despite the grimace on his face. "Hold still. I'm sorry I know it hurts." The room was heavy with the stench of damp rot, peeling wallpaper curling like dead skin from the walls. He cursed under his breath, pressing harder on the gash.

Outside, the motel windows rattled faintly, as if the darkness itself was pressing against the thin glass. Something was out there, lurking. An unnatural force that bent the very air around it, shifting the shadows into shapes that weren’t quite human. Martín could feel it watching, waiting. And yet, Miguel stood there, calm, his back to the room, the barrel of his gun reflecting the flickering light as he scanned the landscape. The wind howled, but beneath it, there was something else; a low, guttural sound, like a creature too large to be real, stalking just beyond the reach of the dim motel lights.

"I promise I get all of us out of here alive." Miguel's voice was steady, righteous, but Martín’s blood boiled at the thought. Always protecting the humans, he thought bitterly, only the humans. He cast a quick glance toward the window where the thing outside seemed to coil and uncoil in the darkness, a shifting nightmare waiting to strike. Martín could feel its pull, a reminder of his own secret nature, knowing that if the truth ever came out, the real monster to fear wouldn’t be the one outside.

[filmnoirfoundation]

NOIR CITY 21

Celebrating its 21st year, NOIR CITY, the largest annual film noir festival in the world, returns to Oakland's Grand Lake Theatre, January 19-28, 2024. FNF president Eddie Muller will present a dozen double bills pairing an English language noir with a similarly themed foreign language film—24 films over 10 days. Whatever the country of origin, there are heists, prison breaks, missing persons, cultural alienation, love triangles, and lots of plain old-fashioned murder.

Muller says this edition "has been tailored to satisfy those folks who love noir filled with the colorful vernacular slang so essential to American and British noir—as well as adventurous viewers intrigued by seeing a familiar story—typically a crime committed for passion or profit—play out in cultures with different values, mores, and styles." Through his programming of NOIR CITY festivals around the nation and his hosting of the popular Noir Alley franchise on Turner Classic Movies, Muller aims to move audiences past the idea that film noir is a strictly American genre.

Joining him this year, as co-programmer and co-host, is acclaimed film scholar Imogen Sara Smith, a familiar commentator on The Criterion Channel streaming service. "Attending NOIR CITY in the Bay Area has been a highlight of my year for over a decade," says Smith, "and I'm thrilled to be joining Eddie as co-host this year. I'm especially excited that the program we've put together will introduce audiences to some rare international titles, alongside Hollywood classics. It's going to be a stellar festival."

Kicking off the collection of rarities is the FNF's most recent restoration — 1952's Argentine film Never Open That Door (No abras nunca esa puerta) — based on two short stories by American master of suspense fiction, Cornell Woolrich. The picture was preserved by the Film Noir Foundation in 2013 and has now been completely restored by the FNF through UCLA Film & Television Archive, thanks in part to a grant from the Golden Globe Foundation (formerly HFPA). Fernando Martín Peña, Argentina's pre-eminent cinephile, will be on hand to introduce the film with Eddie Muller.

Included on the 2024 schedule are English-language rarities such as Black Tuesday (1954), Plunder Road (1957), Across the Bridge (1957), and Strongroom (1962). Little-seen international titles include The Human Beast (France, 1938), Aimless Bullet (South Korea, 1960), Bitter Rice (Italy, 1949), Four Against the World (Mexico, 1950), Zero Focus (Japan, 1961), and Smog (1962), a forgotten surrealist masterpiece by Italian director Franco Rossi freshly restored by UCLA Film & Television Archive. Explore the full line up, buy tickets for individual double features and Passports (All-Access Passes) at the festival website.

GO TO NOIR CITY

[liverpool-enjoyer]

your gavi playlist could also have mcr songs, just saying 😔✊🏻

as an mcr die hard i FULLY agree

do you have any suggestions mayhaps 😳😳

[cmatain]

Disponible en Acceso Abierto el número 15 (2022) del «Anuario Calderoniano» (ISSN: 1888-8046)

Mientras se encuentra en imprenta el número 16 (2023) del Anuario Calderoniano (ISSN: 1888-8046) —con una sección monográfica dedicada a «La escena en el teatro áureo y en el teatro isabelino» coordinada por Paula Baldwin Lind—, anunciamos que se encuentra disponible en Acceso Abierto (Open Access) el número 15, correspondiente al año 2022. Los materiales pueden consultarse y descargarse en…

[gavisuntiedboot]

Just Pretend (Gavi X Reader)

Epilogue

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10

Warnings: Mentions of injury, blood, stitches, SMUT, p in v sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, explicit language, and more that I can't remember.

Word Count: 12.8k (Fun Fact: If you have read all of JP, that's 186 pages single space of reading.)

A/N: Okay y'all, time to finally put this baby to rest. I was going to wait a little bit longer to do this next part, but with Gavi's injury I needed something to keep me off the Emergency Medicine Manual on ear lacerations. And now Joao is here??? It's just the right time. The universe said so.

Gif Credit: @worldcupwinner

Previously on Just Pretend

"She didn't look at the age. She didn't have to. Her eyes landed on the name: Pablo Martín Páez Gavira. One of the best young football players in the world had just used her as a banister. "Now that you know I'm not a kid, next time, you should let me buy you a drink.""

~

"He tried to think of something sad, something painful, anything besides the fact that you were leaning over him, touching him so gently while he was in his boxers."

~

""Don't you think it's a little desperate of you to take off work for a date?"

You looked up at him seething. He stood with his bag strapped over his shoulder, hands in his pockets, hood up to cover his wet hair. His eyes were stern and cold, the usual fire behind them having died down to leave frigid disgust. You would be lying if you said you didn't know about how the Barca men got rid of their sexual frustrations.

"Oh I'm sorry. Next time, Gavi, I'll be classy like you and have weekly sex in a club bathroom.""

~

"It broke him to see you like this - shaking and in tears in a club bathroom, while the man you were trying to impress was probably grinding on other girls. Gavi told himself it had nothing to do with you specifically, just fairness. You were objectively a good person, and you deserved to be treated well by everyone around you. He tugged your shoulder, bringing you in for a tight embrace. You tucked your head into his shoulder, allowing your tears to fall more freely now that he couldn't see you. Something in you began to calm. It was like Gavi had flipped a switch."

~

""You can yell at me all you want. You can be angry at the fact that I care about you. You can punch me," he hit on his chest, "right here if you want to. But I am not a child. Don't refer to me as one. So you can go an be upset and pretend that everything I do is selfish, but you know deep down that no matter how much you push me away, I'm looking out for your best interest." He opened the door and stepped aside.

"Drive safely, doctora.""

~

""No I'm serious. You were having a panic attack in your car. At least... At least come inside and eat something. Maybe have some tea? Anything. I just... want to make sure that you're okay before you leave me."

With wide eyes, you looked up at Gavi after this statement. His cheeks burned, realizing he had slipped up.

"Leave my house. Just come inside.""

~

""Can... can we do something? To help me sleep? But then promise you'll forget about it tomorrow?"

Pablo swallowed hard for the nth time that night. He hesitated. There was no way he could promise to forget a single moment of this night with you, but he could control himself from speaking about it, and that was all he really needed to do.

"Anything.""

~

""Don't leave." He said, voice dry and raspy. You weren't sure if he meant now or the club. You moved your hand to join it with the one on your wrist, giving a gentle squeeze of reassurance, as he had done for you.

"Don't worry. I'll be right back.""

~

""I wish I could go back to then, sometimes."

"Why is that?"

"I had friends back then."

He looked at you in a strange manner, shifting one strand of hair behind your ear.

"Are we not friends, Doctora?"

"For better or worse, you're my best friend, Pablo.""

~

Gavi's heartstrings were so tight they were ready to snap. He had prayed to hear so many different things from you, but never realized that this recognition, this pride expressed so freely, would be the most meaningful. This was it. This was the moment. Suit on, trophy in hand, this was the moment to express how much needed you in his life in a different way. How much he needed to keep making you proud.

~

And now, months later...

The rays of early-morning light danced around the disheveled bedroom, bouncing across t-shirts and socks littering the floor and bedside table. They reflected across the buzzing phone screen, emitting a shrill beeping that disrupted the serenity that accompanied this time of the day. Try as he might to shield his ears with the fluff of his 'cuddling pillow', the sound penetrated through, stirring him from dreams of pretty eyes and soft lips. Squinting, the numbers on his screen prompted him to groan, rolling out of his warm sheets and onto the chill of the tile floor, needing to shower and dress before Pedri began his ritual of calling him on repeat until his butt was seated on the plush leather of the newly purchased Lambo.

The steam rippled off his sore muscles, and he lathered his mint-scented shampoo in his hands, Pablo cracked his first smile of the day at the thought of your hands on his shoulders the moment you got to work, or in the calm hours after. The whole house lingered with traces of you, but the bathroom was the worst. He had slowly but surely photographed everything in your own bathroom, replicating your set up in his much more luxurious marble shower. From hair to body to skincare, he had every bottle perfectly arranged for you to use on those days when the shared warmth of Pablo's body against yours was too much to overcome, and he lead you upstairs for a night in his arms. Or even better (and yet also worse), when the two of you remained entangled on what Gavi referred to as the "love sofa", waking up with muscle aches and bad breath, but always with the upmost feelings of content.

Every step of Pablo's morning had slowly but surely started revolving around you. He was floating, weightless in your alluring orbit. Su Sol. Su vida. The deodorant he rolled on was never out of stock under his cabinet, and it never would be since you cuddled into him and said he smelled like the ocean. He had spent his weeks in America (when not bedridden) searching for bottles of 1 million, the cologne that you secretly sprayed on the pillows before bed and onto every item of clothing you 'borrowed'. The hair gel was at the back of the cabinet, fated to collect dust because of a gentle run of your fingers and a whisper that you loved when Pablo was "all soft and fluffy".

And as he slipped on his training shirt, the ringing started. He knew it was Pedri informing him that he was at the door, and he hurried as much as possible, as to prevent the ring tone from driving him to the brink of madness. He scurried down the stairs, careful not to crack his head open while running in socks (well, not to crack it open again). He grabbed his bag from its hook by the door, slipping on his shoes. Before exiting, he looked at the wall beside the door. He ran his fingers up the taped photographs slowly. They dragged across the young faces of his old teammates, over is mother and father and sister on a white-sand beach, dancing past the collection of pictures from the Supercopa and the Ballon D'or, and rested on the only picture frame hanging on the wall. It was one of those tacky pink ones that stores sold on Valentine's day, with AMOR written in chunky red glitter. He was sat on your chair at work, your stethoscope around his neck and you perched in his lap in your red scrubs. His right cheek was smooshed from the force of the kiss you left on it, bright red lipstick already marking his other cheek and his lips. He leaned forward, placing a swift kiss to the cool glass, before running out the door to finally stop the incessant calls.

"You know if you had been three minutes later, we would have had to skip the coffee shop." Pedri said, pulling out before the passenger door was fully shut.

"I would rather walk to training than skip that."

"How much money do you make to be buying your girl a large coffee every morning?"

"I would sell my house to keep buying her coffee in the morning."

The words 'that's a little extreme' stopped on the tip of Pedri's tongue - if Gavi was not going to be extreme in his love, then who would be?

~

"And finally, Nicolas, we have the physio who will be overseeing much of your work. I'll be introducing you two now."

It was comforting to know that Dr. Gonzalez was just as dry with everyone. The muffled words came with a swift three knocks at the door, and he peaked his head in before you could release the permission from your lips.

"May we enter, Doctora?"

"Yes, of course, Dr. Gonzalez. I have no players on my schedule until 8:30. Please come in, make yourselves comfortable."

He entered with a tall, muscular boy behind him, his dark curls falling in front of his bright blue eyes. His scrubs shirt puckered in the chest area, in danger of bursting due to a deep breath. He shuffled in awkwardly, opting to stand behind Dr. Gonzalez rather than occupy the seat next to him.

"Now, Nicolas. Before you is a shining example of what the individuals in your program are capable of achieving. This is-"

"Oh! You're Doctora Gavira!"

There was a moment of radio silence that circled the room, before you had the courage to whisper out, "...what?"

"Nicolas, don't interrupt." Dr. Gonzalez decided to ignore what the new kid had just called you. "This is Doctora y/n y/l/n, who many people refer to as just Doctora. Please do not do that without her explicit permission. She joined us a little over a year ago from the same program you are in, and has been an effective technician who has brought medical success to the club. Barring any tragedies like pregnancy, she will become the club's Assistant Head of Physiotherapy. Despite your initial examination being slightly more disappointing than hers, we believe you can excel under her mentorship. You will be fired upon her first complaint. I'll leave you two alone now to be acquainted. Doctora, please allow him to shadow you through the medical examinations happening today. Thank you both."

Nicolas sat in shock at all the insults that had just been so casually shot through him while you smiled sweetly and waived your boss out the door. As soon as the click of the door was heard, your smile dropped and you were leaning menacingly over the desk.

"Okay, confess right now or lose your job: who told you to call me Doctora Gavira"

"What? I- no one! Are you not married to Gavi?"

"Where would you get that idea?" You asked while sitting back down, the visible tremble in the boy before you extinguishing the anger within you.

"Well, I walked into work this morning and you were getting out of your car and I was saying hey to Ronald who I met during my interview and I said 'oh who is that she's really cute' and he was like 'oh that's the Doctora and you should be careful saying stuff about her because she's Gavi's girl and he will rip your throat out and then she will sew it back into your body' and so after that I just assumed you were his wife because like footballers aren't usually that serious about their girlfriends and I follow a bunch of Gavi fan accounts and none even said that you were his girlfriend because there's this other girl who is actually kind of awful-"

His tangent was only interrupted by a soft knocking at your office door. You yelled for whatever angel to enter, grateful from the save from the worst verbal diarrhea you had seen in years. And it was the sweetest angel of all who poked his head through the door, hair freshly washed and frizzing slightly in the August humidity. He held a large chilled coffee in one hand, using the free one to rest his weight on the back of your chair. He leaned down to complete his routine with a good morning kiss, but the look you gave Pablo over the rim of your glasses made him hesitate. It was then that he noticed the individual sat across from you. Locking eyes with him, Pablo opted for a kiss on the crown of your head, muttering a gentle “Bon día, mi doctora.”

Nicolas' eyes followed the way your hand smoothed over Gavi's bicep in the most obvious way possible, and it had the young Sevillano tensing.

"Pablo," you started before he could come up with his own conclusions, "meet Nicolas. He's going to be training under me for his work placement."

"Nice to meet you, Pablo!" Shooting up out of his chair, he extended a sweaty handshake that was left hanging in the air.

"Gavi."

"Huh?"

"Call me Gavi."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought because-"

"You want to call me the same name my girlfriend does?" A smile played across Pablo's lips: he was obviously joking, but the intern before him shook like a leaf and sweat bullets, hand still frozen in the air. Letting out a soft laugh, Pablo took his hand, embracing the new intern and reassuring him that he wasn't about to be slaughtered.

"All the boys call me Gavi - don't want you to feel out of place. Welcome to the club. You have the best teacher - I would know."

"Right! Because she's you're girlfriend!"

"Because she's the physiotherapist that's been working on me for the last year..."

Silence once again.

"Nicolas, maybe you should go watch the warmups. I'll be out in a few minutes. Field is out the door to your left."

The boy sent you a look of gratitude to be freed from ... whatever that was. He all but ran out the door, leaving it slightly ajar as Pablo watched him turn the corner, finally having enough privacy to capture you in the delicate kiss he had been waiting for since he saw you a mere 10 hours ago.

"Bon dia, Pablito. Did you sleep well?"

"Not as well as when you're next to me."

Despite asking the same question for weeks on end, he always gave the same answer. It was about a month into the two of you officially dating when he asked you to move into his place. Of course you vehemently declined, citing reasons such as not being able to break your lease and not wanting to intrude on his space. But deep down there was the unspoken truth. Every day you held your breath waiting for Pablo's answer to change. To tell you that he had slept just fine on his own, and that he may sleep even better beside someone else. The day had yet to come, and a small part of you dared to hope it never would.

"That sounds rough. Any way I can make it up to you for going home?"

"Here? In your office? I mean if you insist..."

You smacked him playfully on the arm as both of your giggled filled your office space. Pablo was acutely aware of the fact that every time he spoke to you about the subject, it was in vague terms and half truths. Pablo wanted you to move in more than he wanted almost anything else. In his mind it was the perfect scenario: he would wake up with you enveloped by his arms, breathing rhythmically against his skin. You would get into the shower, hot water rolling down your spine as he laid out your scrubs (the red and black ones were his favorites). He would make you a coffee on the ridiculously expensive espresso machine that would be arriving in 7-14 business days - right after your school and work joint evaluation. The drive to work would be filled with soft melodies and hushed conversations. The drive home would be more vibrant, with Pablito on the AUX and the windows rolled down. And then he would get to come home and help you make dinner, trying not to burn or spill as he set two porcelain dining bowls on the coffee table, under the watchful, scowling eyes of the two of you frozen in a photo. Then he would lay his head back on the couch, his chin on your crown, running his fingers up and down your back to trace your spine. The TV would be playing reruns of the same show for the thousandth time, but it didn't matter. It was the best possible feeling Pablo knew: familiarity.

It was hard being a generational talent. Sure, it came with tons of admiration and praise, but it was also riddled with constant change. Changing your hometown for a big new city. Trading your neighborhood full of friends for an academy of classmates, who you were always reminded were your competition. Exchanging hugs from mom and home-cooked meals with yelled instructions and drills in the rain. Even now, after years of playing with the first team and reaping the success, Pablo couldn't help but think about how nice it would be to stay in one city all the time, taking one set of roads that he could memorize.

But now he had you. And not in the same way as before. In a sense, he always had you. No matter how much you were irritated with the boy, you were always a phone call away. You were always ready to help heal his ailments, despite the eye-rolls that came with it. And when he had come to you at his most vulnerable, trembling hands and open heart, you had been as you always were: ready to take him as he was and treat him with delicacy and love.

No matter where Gavi went, there was still something familiar with him. When he was on a red-eye to Madrid, he could lead against the curve of your shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent of your hair and feeling the warmth of your skin. On a tiring night after training, he could always come home and be beside you, tracing the curves of your body that he had memorized, every mark and dip on your skin a landmark that reminded him he was home. The sound of your voice was melodic and soothing, and he could never get enough of the way you said his name.

"Mi Pablito."

Now was no different. The sound of your scrubs shifting, the chill of your coffee against his palm, the way your lips moved against his, so soft with delicate pressure - all of it he already knew, and that was the best part.

"Are you going to come over tonight?"

He always asked. Again, he knew the answer was going to be a huff followed by a shy 'of course', and yet he asked anyways. He loved the stability and the routine. He loved hearing you say that he was the person you preferred to spend your time with.

"Mm of course, mi Pablito. But I might be a little late. I have a lot of paperwork."

"Late? As in, you wouldn't go home with me?" Pablo's pout was adorable, puffy and pink and complemented by his beautiful brown eyes that reflected the fluorescent lights.

"I'm going to try my best not to be here too long, but it's looking like I'm going to be a while. I have to finish the reports about your improvement over the last year for my evaluation next week, do the medical examinations for the new first team members, and now I have this new kid Nicolas."

"First team players? Iñigo and Oriol finished their exams weeks ago. Besides, tomorrow is deadline day. Why would they leave the medical exams until now." Pablo was already stripping off his shirt and laying in your table, ready for you to help with his persistent back pain. You had initially thought he was lying, searching for any reason to have your hands on him during business hours. But then you actually felt his latissimus and erector spinae, and they were so tensed that for a moment you thought about injecting a relaxer into his lower back. So every morning he came in for tension relief at your magical fingertips. But the coos of "aw poor baby" and you leaned over him for half an hour every morning was definitely not going to illicit any complaints.

"Oh, well, there's still more medical procedures to be done. Fermin and Lamine have to be re-examined since Luca forgot tests 12.4 and 17.1. And Joao needs to get his examination." You placed your hands on Pablo's back, apologizing softly for how cold they were. Your first session after the two of you had gotten together, he threatened to burn every latex glove in the club. He hated the way they felt, and now that he was having a lot of skin-to-skin time, he felt that the gloves were pointless.

"Oh, I forgot that Cancelo had flown in. He's going to do wonders for our defense. Just like you're doing wonders for my back, mi amor." He allowed his eyes to flutter shut, breathing deeply and focusing on the feeling of your fingertips. Looking over your shoulder, you ensured the hallway was empty before leaning down to kiss the gentle dip where his spine was. It released a little giggle from Pablo, who tutted and said that you were trouble.

"Just relax. You think I would ever get you in trouble?"

"Oh I was in trouble the first moment that I saw you, mi Doctora."

Before you could respond, your office door swung open, and Nicolas' worried face was staring back at you.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Doctora!! I should have knocked! I didn't realize you were... occupied."

"Why did you pause before- you know what, I don't want to know. What's up Nicolas?"

"Mister Xavi wanted me to tell you that Joao is here on the field, and that he should be examined as soon as possible so he can join the morning training."

Your fingers stilled and your eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Gavi felt your shift but remained silent. When the two of you first started dating, he had been very protective, borderline your official spokesperson in the club. He would tell the other players you couldn't meet with them when he knew you had paperwork, and would react harshly to those who questioned your medical decisions. It had gotten you reprimanded by Dr. G, who had reminded you that your relationship should not interfere with your work. And you didn't need to be a genius to know that the players being too intimidated to get physiotherapy was 'interference with work'.

"I had him on the schedule for later this afternoon. I guess Mister wants him training earlier. I have 10 minutes left with Gavi, and then we'll both be out on the practice field."

Just as Gavi's eyes began to droop and his muscles relaxed enough for him to drift into a peaceful sleep, you were by his ear whispering for him to wake up.

"Come on, mi campeon - you have to go to training."

"Mm I don't want to," he mumbled as he rolled over, abs on display as he smiled up at you. "It's so nice and comfortable here."

You rested your hands on his hips, tracing them slowly up his slow stomach, leaving a trail of heat in your path. They continued upward until your palms lay flat on his pecs, and you leaned in to place a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose.

"Stay here then. Take a little nap while I finish the medicals. In the meantime, they'll have Fermin take your place, and then he'll win the Golden Boy next year, and maybe he'll fall in love with his physio on the sidelines..."

"Ah yes, I can see it now," he said, "the beautiful story between Fermin and his physio... Nicolas."

You both burst out laughing at the mental image of the tall Nicolas sweeping Fermin into a homoerotic, Mbappe-Giroud embrace after he scored a goal. You walked over to the chair, tossing Gavi his training shirt and watching it slip back over the defined, rippling muscle, remaining taunt against his biceps. He opened the door for you, placing a hand on the small of your back to guide you towards the field. The 9am sun was beaming on the late August grass, reflecting the dew on the grass and the beads of sweat glistening on the boys that were running laps and stretching (some better than others - you made a mental note of who you would probably be seeing later). Pablo shot you a quick wink before scurrying off towards his peers.

"Bon dia, Doctora!" The yell came from across the pitch, and was accompanied by the excited waves from Fermin and Balde, who were having the time of their lives making fun of their whipped friend. Pedri had been part of that group initially, joining in on the taunting before games about how he was looking for injuries just to have her run onto the field. He had lingered with the other boys in the locker room to point out any bruises or scratches that Pablo had acquired, teasing him about 'finally getting some'. But since you had become best friends with his crush/ nemesis, it had become a lot harder to make fun of the younger boy without repercussions.

The older players had been overjoyed for the two of you, especially uncle Lewy. His bond with Gavi was special to him, and far surpassed just their relationship on the field. He saw his younger self in Pablo, and couldn't help the feeling he got watching the boy fall in love. The way that Gavi was fiercely protective of you, so excited to watch you shine, reminded him of Anna and all the light she brought to his life. It was a sight that made everyone's chest swell - watching the two of you interlock fingers and walk to your car every evening, smiling sweetly and leaning against each other. Robert hoped that the happiness Gavi felt was lifelong.

"Bon dia, Mister." You approached the coach and he met you with a smile and a clap on the shoulder.

"Doctora, always a good morning when we have you with us during practice."

"I'm flattered, coach. I heard from Nicolas that you wanted me to do Joao's medical now? I was scheduled to oversee morning practice and complete his medical this afternoon. Has there been a change in what needs to be done today so I can adjust the schedule?" You asked, watching the players do their drills.

"Oh, I guess we didn't send out a memo. Not surprising, because the deal was finalized last night. You're correct, Cancelo is going to arrive within the hour and be examined in the afternoon. However, Joao had already arrived and is currently changing. I think his exam should go quickly, given that you can work off of his previous La Liga paperwork, which should be in your email. I would really appreciate if you could complete it now so that he can join the second half of this morning's training."

If the confusion wasn't evident across your face, you decided to vocalize it.

"Sorry, Mister, but isn't Cancelo Joao? Is there something I'm missing?"

"Oh," he laughed out, "my apologies. I announced it before warm-ups began, but you were still in your morning session with Gavi. The club has secured a loan deal for this season for Joao Felix from Atletico. He should be waiting for you in the hall by your office."

Gavi watched the color drain from your face from across the field, and you couldn't help the feeling of anxiety that flooded your system. If you hadn't heard the announcement, then neither had Pablo, and given your track record with Felix, you knew that it wasn't going to be his favorite news.

"Ah, that's great news!" You tried to sound as enthusiastic as possible. "I just need to get Nicolas so he can shadow me and give the boys some stretch instructions before you get started with the team drills. Do you mind?" Xavi indicated for you to step on the field, and you all but sprinted over to Gavi and his teammates. Nicolas stood there, trying his best not to die of anxiety while chatting with the players and taking notes on the specific stretches that each one of them has been assigned by you.

"Hi Doctora." The greeting came from Ferran, who, after several weeks of therapy, had reached out to you to apologize for his behavior. He was keeping his relationship professional, and the personal growth you had seen was surprising. It didn't erase the hurt he had caused you, but allowed you to work with him without wanting to punch him in the face. Maybe after some more time (and therapy), you could be as friendly with him as the boys were.

"Hi Ferran. Looking good, boys. Pedri, that right hamstring needs more work." You quickly shot out, receiving a sigh as he worked out his leg for the third time. The rest of the boys looked like they were ready to engage in small-talk, but you beat them to it.

"So, are you guys excited about the new signings coming in today?" You asked, bouncing on one leg to the other.

"Very. I think Felix is going to be a fantastic contribution to the last third of the field. Will really help our attacking power." Pedri said absent-mindedly, grimacing at the effort necessary to help release the tension in his thigh.

"Felix?" Gavi was obviously confused, eyebrows stitching together, making him look even more angry bird-like than usual.

"Oh, right, you weren't here." Fermin said, turning to his childhood friend. "They finalized Joao Felix. He's arriving today and training with us after his medical exam."

"Which I'm about to go do right now." You added on quickly, hoping to rip off the Band-Aid.

"You're going to be alone with Felix?" Gavi asked in what was probably a louder tone than intended. Pablo would never describe himself with the word 'jealous'. Why would he be? He knew what he brought to the table. He was cute, successful, and was absolutely head-over-heels in love with you in a way that bordered obsession. He knew that the Portuguese playboy had nothing on him in that respect. But whenever he thought back to the stories you had told him about your first meeting with Felix, or back to the Ballon D'or when he had so effortlessly wrapped himself around you, it made the bile rise in his throat.

"Well," you tried to ignore the looks of the players around you, with their ears pricked up and waiting waiting with baited breath for your response. "Not alone. Nicolas is going to be there."

Silence. A beat passed. The another. Then another and another until the silence grew almost unbearable.

"Alright, mi Doctora. See you during the break, then." Pablo's soft eyes reached yours, and you unexpectedly found not a singular trace of negative feeling. Not one heat flare of jealousy or anger crossed his features, and it was borderline unsettling.

~

Pablo's eyes remained trained on you as you re-emerged, Nicolas to your left and Joao flanking the right. The three of you spoke freely and lightly, and Gavi strained his ears to try and listen in on what had the trio giggling. As Nicolas departed to report back to Dr. G, you continued towards Pablo with Joao by your side.

"I know you two have met and shoved each other many times," You said, extending your hand to help pull Pablo to his feet. "But I thought it was time to introduce the two of you on friendly terms. Pablo, this is Joao Felix, our new striker. And Joao this is Gavi, our brilliant golden boy midfielder and," you waved at him to lean in closer, "my brilliant boyfriend." The wink you shot him had Pablo blushing like a schoolgirl, and Joao clapped him on the shoulder affectionately.

"Ay, look at that. Always the winner, irmao. The doutora was actually a big part in helping me come to the club of my dreams, so I'm really thankful for her."

"Really?" Pablo questioned.

"Remember? I told you I was reviewing his health profile. We did it together actually when I was over for-"

"For when Aurora was in town. You're right."

You left the boys shortly after, sitting at your desk anxiously. You knew that Gavi's reaction was... uncharacteristic at best. He had been very unhappy when he found out that you were reviewing his file for a transfer. Help was also a relative term...

"Mi vida, you can't be serious!"

"Pablo, they didn't ask me for my personal opinion on the matter. They sent me the medical profile of a player for a injury probability analysis and fitness examination. They didn't even include his full name."

"Right. J. F. from Atletico Madrid. What a mystery!"

Pablo flopped onto the bed, arms crossed and pouting as he got under the covers. He looked down at his lap, praying that you didn't use the J-word. He wasn't jealous. He wasn't. Feelings like jealousy and insecurity never found their way into his system. But he just... didn't like it. He didn't like the idea that someone was walking around thinking about you in a sinful manner. He replayed over and over in his head your account of the first time you had met 'Portugal boy'. How he 'hoped to see more of you'. Sick bastard. Your sweet, innocent mind had let the comment slide quickly, interpreting it as him wanting to see you around. But Pablo, who had spent the last year of his life trying to protect you from creeps and weirdos (his colleagues), he looked into it more deeply. See more of you meant see more of you, aka your body. Now Pablo was in bed seething at his own theories. Of Joao flirting with you, getting you alone, getting hard from your gentle touches as you simply did you job, and then...

"No. I don't like it. Just lie and say that he's too mentally ill for the club. We already have Ferran and Pedri - the club therapists are overworked." He pulled the covers up to his chin and turned his back to you, and you could tell that he was genuinely distressed. You crawled under the covers as well, your nightgown shifting up around your legs.

"Aw, lito, come here." You slid into the space behind him, tugging on his arm lightly to get him to unravel. He let himself go slack, allowing you to pull him into you. You turned him to lay on your chest, shell of his ear tuned into the rhythmic breathing of your heart. You pulled his arm around your waist, and he couldn't resist the urge to cuddle closer into you. One hand came up to gently rake your nails through his soft locks. The pressure of your lips on his crown allowed him to release a shaky breath. "Talk to me."

"I just... I don't know. When you bring him up it just turns my stomach." The pout could be heard in his voice as he brought the rest of his body into your side.

"Are you jealous?"

"No of course not." He breathed out all at once. "I would like to think our relationship is stronger than your old celebrity crush working with you." He felt the vibration of your chest as you giggled, and it lightened up the heavy feeling in his core. "But it just... doesn't feel good. Knowing there's someone else who wants you and gets to be so close to you."

You refrained from telling Pablo that was the literal definition of jealousy. And simultaneously, he refrained from telling you that a small, very very tiny part of his brain wasn't sure that you wouldn't leave him for Joao. The man was beautiful, there was absolutely no denying it, and had experience being in a long term committed relationship. It certainly didn't help that Joao was two years your senior. Pablo's insecurity around his age fluctuated in intensity, but was persistently present. It had gotten worse the more strangers found out about your relationship. When he told his friends back in Sevilla, he was met with wolf whistles and encouragement to 'improve quickly' before you left for someone more 'experienced'.

And now Pablo's brain was moving rapidly, thinking about all the small jabs his friends had made about your sexual life. "Just make sure she isn't faking it." That particular one had come from Pedri of all people, who rapidly realized his attempt at a harmless joke had sent the younger boy spiraling. Were you faking? Did you want someone who had slept with more women? Were your instructions about where he should move or how hard he should go normal? Or was that a product of sleeping with someone freshly 19?

"Do you wish I was older?"

Pablo had asked this question often, but always got the same answer. He always got the reassurance that you knew he needed in difficult moments.

"Of course not, Pablo. I don't wish anything about you, or about us, was different. Except maybe I wish we would have gotten together sooner." You punctuated the sentiment with another soft kiss to his head, cradling him close to your chest. He didn't relax this time, however. He followed up with a question that had been plaguing him since the two of you got together, but that he never had the courage to know the answer to.

"Do you... wish I was better at sex?"

You were frozen as Pablo buried his burning cheeks into your side, embarrassed by the way he had decided to phrase his query. You brought your hand up to grasp his chin and turn him to meet your eyes.

"Why would you ask that?"

"I don't know, it's just... something I've been thinking about."

"Has the sex not been good for you?"

"No! No of course not," he sat up on one elbow, trying to quickly remedy the situation so that you both wouldn't stay up until the early hours riddled with anxiety.

"I've just been thinking because... well one time me and the boys were talking..."

"Oh no here we go."

"And Pedri mentioned how it kind of takes a long time to get girls to finish."

"Mhm..."

"And then Fermin agreed."

"I can't believe you guys had this discussion in front of baby Fermin." You clasped a hand over your mouth.

"He's older than I am and that's not the point. Focus, mi doctora. So they were talking about things to make a girl finish faster and naturally I was confused because you don't take that long to finish."

"Pablo please tell me you didn't-"

"I obviously didn't say 'oh my girl cums in under 5 minutes', but I just disagreed with them." Your head was in your hands as he continued his story.

"So then they were like no no it takes forever, especially the first time. And I said that the last time I had sex with a new girl, it only took me like 10 minutes." You were bright red, unable to respond to the news that the team was hearing how long your average orgasm took.

"And then Pedri said that you might be faking it and that's why it didn't take a long time. And then I asked why a girl would fake it and he said because when the guy can't lay pipe well the girl gets bored and fakes it so the sex can end faster. And I know that I really like having sex with you but I don't know if you like having sex with me so-"

You interrupted Pablo by grabbing his chin and pulling him towards you, kissing his pouting lips mid sentence. It was too much - too adorable for you to control yourself.

"Pablito, I love you." You held his face in your hands, just watching the way his beautiful eyes reflected the low light of the bedside lamp.

"It's okay, you can tell me if I'm bad." He said softly, genuinely waiting for his feelings to be hurt.

"You're not bad, Pablo. Not even close. You're actually... okay don't start dancing when I say this but you're the best sex I've ever had."

You could feel the blood pool to his cheeks and the muscles tense to repress a smile.

"Is that so? Please feel free to elaborate." You rolled your eyes, knowing you were feeding his ego, but knowing he probably needed it in that moment.

"I've had sex with other people and none of them... well they never got me to finish, you know? I didn't even think I could finish during sex before you."

Pablo's head dripped to rest against your chest, face nestled in the valley of your breasts, breath labored against you. Your words were most certainly turning him on. He brought his hands to your thighs, playing with the hem of your satin slip, and you knew you were not going to be sleeping for the foreseeable future.

"Can you... can you keep talking, mi amor?" Who were you to deny your baby?

"You know it's not just the way you move your hands," you started as the material began to rise up your legs. "It's just you, Pablo. Just the thought of you gets me ... soaking." He let out a strangled moan against you, your words obviously having the desired effect.

"Sometimes I see you when we're at work, licking your lips or wiping your sweat with the hem of your shirt and I have to look away because otherwise," You stopped to let out a shaky breath as his hands rested on your hips, fingers ghosting the hem of your dampening panties.

"Otherwise I would have to lock my office door for a suspicious amount of time."

It was your turn to moan softly as he started kissing down your sternum, hands also moving your panties down to expose you to the cool air and Pablo's hungry eyes.

"Have you," he paused to kiss your ankle, the charm that hung there teasing him. He had seen it after your first night together, the blank tag hanging on the interlocking chain. He had stolen it one day after you look it off to shower, getting a stethoscope engraved into one side and a football onto the other. His favorite sight was to watch it dangle by his ear.

"Have you... ever," another kiss, up by your knee, "thought about me," kissed to your inner thigh now, "when you..." he trained off, hands reaching up to gentle massage your boobs while he centered his face, labored breathing hitting your soaking pussy.

"Yeah..." you breathed out, almost to the point of vibrating when he placed a gentle kiss on your lips.

"Tell me about it." He said, looking up through gorgeous lashes as he poked his tongue out, the tip teasing your clit in soft, delicate kitten licks.

"There was this one time... before we," you moved a hand to your breast, placing it over his. You needed the contact, needed more of Pablo. "Before we got together."

"Oh?" His verbal response was short, but the admission made him use the rest of his tongue, still licking slowly and deliberately, but now capturing more of you with his perfect mouth.

"I was watching you in- ah - in a match," he moved his hand off your chest to lace his fingers with yours. "And you wiped your brow with the hem of your shirt and- ah fuck Pablo." He was now flattening the length of his tongue against you, the soft pressure making you want to buck your hips up into his gorgeous face.

"I really want to hear this story, mi sol. So if I need to stop.."

"No!" You said while shooting up, tightening your hold on his hand. He resumed his pleasurable ministrations and you tried your hardest to form words.

"I saw the bottom of your abs and thought about what it would b-be like if I was on top of you..." He was getting more deliberate now, moving his tongue in figures and slipping it into you occasionally, which made your back arch off the mattress.

"And then you- fuck! You spit on the field and I just.. I.. I had to...Pablo fuck I can't!"

Your eyes were shut now, unable to do anything but whine as Pablo sucked on your clit, rolling it in his mouth before releasing it and fucking you slowly with his tongue. He pulled away completely, kissing you once before he came up to meet you at eye level.

"What did you do, mi amor?"

His eyes were looking at yours with such a delicateness that you almost came on the spot. He looked at your swollen lips, your blown out pupils, the way your chest heaved, and he was ready to pledge his life to worshipping you. He looked at you the way people looked at paintings of angels: in admiration of a beauty too great to be human. He kissed you slowly and deeply, fingers circling your slick entrance.

"It's okay, tell me."

"I... I got off on my couch to the thought of you spitting on me. Or, doing anything to me actually. You don't understand how much I love you, Pablo. Everything you do sets me on fire."

With that, he captured your lips again, swallowing the high pitched whine he elicited by slipping in his fingers. He pumped you slow and hard, making sure to feel every ridge within you, taking his time to find that one magic spot that would return the angel underneath him to heaven.

"I love you more, mi vida." He brought his lips down to your neck, kissing you sweetly, before moving his lips to join his hands. Suddenly it was all too much. His plump and swollen lips sucking on your clit as two of his fingers pumped in and out of you and a merciless pace, and moments later you were grinding onto his face, cutting off his air, and whimpering out how much you loved him and how good he was to you. Your eyes rolled back in your head and your body arched so far off the mattress you were sure you were floating. When you came down from your high and regained your vision, you brought Gavi up to you, kissing him passionately.

"You're amazing, Pablo. You're always so good to me. So, so good I love you."

"Yeah?" He was leaning over you now, watching you fight sleep while recovering from the power of the climax you had just reached. He kissed your neck sweetly, sucking gently on your throat to leave a beautiful bruise at the base - enough to be visible the next day, but not dark enough to where it couldn't be covered with some makeup.

"Yeah. You're so good, Pablo." You ran your fingers through his hair for the millionth time, keeping him pressed against you, the electricity running through you. You moved one hand down to Pablo's boxers, rubbing his weeping member over his boxers, making his movements falter. His breathing was heavy against you, and you felt his hips move to rut against your palm.

"If you're tired," he panted out, "we... we can stop. I don't want you-"

"No," you moved to sit up, pushing Pablo's shoulders so that your positions were reversed, with his back against the headboard and you straddling his hips. You moved down, lips on his pulse point while your hands helped him removed the boxers caging him in.

"I want to make you feel good, mi Pablito. Let me show you how good you are."

Your naked pussy, still slick from your arousal and Pablo's spit, moved against his leaking cock, the friction driving both of you crazy. You continued to suck on his neck, moving from behind his ear down to his collarbone, and making your way back up to his Adam's apple. It was romantic and slow and sensual, the way his shaft rocked back and forth between your lips.

"Mi amor, so good, I- fuck." It was his turn to be left speechless as you slowly seated yourself on the tip of his dick. Your forehead was pressed against his, and he opened his eyes to gaze into yours as you seated yourself fully. Hands met his hard chest as you struggled to breathe, the stretch too pleasurable for you to want to move an inch. Grabbing at your thighs and leaning back against the headboard, Pablo began lifting you up and fucking into you, slow and hard and deep. He was in 7th heaven, watching the way your eyes watered from the overwhelming feeling of being so full.

"You're so good lito - the best. Fuck, fuck, no one can fuck me like you can."

"Ay mi amor," he sped up, the praise going straight to his libido, "going to cum."

"Cum inside me. Please, Pablo. I'm yours. Make me yours."

He encircled the back of your neck and brought your lips together in a harsh clash of tongue and teeth as he came, moaning into your mouth. He brought a hand down to finish you off as well, forcing his eyes open to capture yours screwing shut in pleasure.

As the two of you laid down for bed, exhausted and ready for sleep, Pablo took his normal place on your chest, bringing up your leg over his waist. He loved to be this close to you.

"So, lito, you think those were real?"

"Your words can lie, mi Doctora, but you of all people should know that you can't fake that death grip. That was definitely real."

~

It had been a week since then, and the new season was three games deep. Gavi had his insecurities quelled slightly by your consistent affections (and after ensuring he could make you cum), but it didn't make him like Joao any more than before. He still harbored negative feelings towards the Portuguese player. To the other club members, it was understood that Gavi was upset over his childhood friend Ansu being replaced. But to you and his closest friends? It was evident that he wasn't happy with the immediate comfort Joao felt towards you.

"Good morning, doutora! Thank you so much for that late night session - you really worked out my thighs like magic."

"Oh, are you coming out with us to the club? You should - I want to see how you look when you're not all professional."

"The boys from Chelsea say Hi, doutora. They're all telling me how lucky I am to be working under you."

All these comments had gotten under Gavi's skin in the days they were training, and today was no different. While Gavi was running drills, Joao found you on the side of the field and began a conversation with you about F1.

"Oh yeah, it sucks sometimes, but I can't be anything other than a Ferrari fan. I was able to get Pablo into it as well because of the Netflix show."

"Oh, is he also a Ferrari boy?"

"Oh, well he is, but I think he just does that for me. He's secretly rooting for Hamilton every race."

And despite not knowing the topic of the conversation, it absolutely boiled Gavi's blood to watch you talk and laugh so freely with this man who so obviously wants you. His frustration came out on the field, gaining him swift corrections from Xavi to think with his brain and not whatever was angering him at that current moment. When training concluded, he stood near Joao in the locker room, listening to his conversation with Cancelo and Ferran. When the Portugese boy noticed the small Spaniard's stare, he turned to him.

"Great job in training today, Pablo."

"Gavi. Only my parents and my girlfriend call me Pablo."

"Ay, sorry, Gavi. Must have gotten confused after taking to y/n."

"Are you trying to fuck my girlfriend?"

The question sent a shock around the locker room, and suddenly, there was silence. Everyone waited with baited breath to hear the response to the question and the subsequent aftermath.

"What?"

"You have like forty guys on this team that you could be working to get closer to and yet at every opportunity you're beside my girlfriend. So, are you trying to fuck her?"

"No, of course not! I-"

"Then what are you doing?" Pablo knew he was making a scene and that he would be told off for it later, but at the present he didn't care. All he wanted was to understand the plot of his new teammate and potentially his girlfriend's new man.

"Gavi, can we step outside?" Joao's maturity was showing in this moment. He was not about to start a scene two days before he was meant to step on the grass of one of the best clubs in the world. Gavi angrily followed him out of the locker room, prepared to throw insults or punches: whatever the situation called for.

"Okay, Gavi. I'm going to be honest with you because we're teammates and I think we could end up being friends. And because I feel like there's no point in lying. When I first met your girl in London, I thought she was gorgeous."

"I don't know why you thought this would help you build a friendship with me." Gavi deadpanned, anger rising to his throat. His new teammate had 30 more seconds before he lost it completely.

"No I- what I'm trying to say is yes, I did have a crush on her. You're not delusional."

"I already knew that."

"Let me finish!"

"Talk faster!"

"I had a crush on her but then Kepa told me she was with you and I laid off but then I saw her at the ceremony and she said she wasn't dating anybody so then she said her feet hurt from the shoes and she wanted to go back to her room so I walked her there and I asked her out and she said no and I was confused because she was single and she said she was waiting for someone and I just kind of figured it was you because you're the only thing she talked about that entire night and I am very happy for the both of you but feelings don't just disintegrate and I don't want to be a douche who has feelings for your girlfriend so please just tolerate me until I get over mu crush!"

Joao yelled out his entire confession in one breath to answer Gavi's request for speed. It threw the younger boy for a loop, and he was silent for a long moment while he processed what he wanted to say in response.

"So.... you asked out my girlfriend and got rejected?"

"Yes, but before she was your girlfriend!"

"So when my girlfriend was single, free from the guilt of cheating, you asked her out and she rejected you because she was waiting for someone else?"

"Yes."

"Yes let's go!"

Joao was utterly confused by the reaction of the boy. He was ready for yelling, maybe to run for his life, but he never expected Gavi to be smiling, punching the air and celebrating. He turned back to Joao, pulling him into a tight hug and smacking him on the back with strength that bordered on malicious, and then beamed up at him.

"Oh we're going to be just fine. Welcome to the team."

~

It was the stuff of dreams and fantasy. You couldn't believe the scene before you. On the sidelines at the home game in a full Olympic stadium, the fans shouting at the top of their lungs. Barca had just scored the equalizer against Osasuna, and they were coming off the field, little blobs of neon teal ready to prep for the second half. Felix and Cancelo were stretching, ready to make an appearance. A streak flew towards you, and in the tunnel you were met with a grass-stained Gavi, who hugged your middle and kissed you passionately on the cheek.

"You're doing wonderfully, mi Pablito." You said as you walked towards Ilkay to re-bandage his fingers.

"So are you, mi Doctora."

"I haven't really done anything yet." You said as Gavi moved towards the huddle to hear the second half strategy from Xavi.

"And let's please keep it that way! Don't get blood on your new kit."

And it was almost like you had spoken it into existence. There was an electric energy on the grass in the first half, but when the Joaos came on, it was like something just clicked. There was magic dancing through the air, and it seemed like the ball never left Barca's last third. It was just a matter of getting the timing right. And God, was it breathtaking. The midfield was moving like shadows, unstoppable as they fed the ball to Felix. He worked with Balde on the left, lighting fast reflexes that had you on your feet in an instant. It was an impeccable cross, soaring high above the defense line and meeting perfectly with Gavi, who had somehow levitated a foot in the air, and then was catapulted into the far corner of the net. The roar of the crowd was deafening, and you grasped Nicolas harshly and shook him, nearly throwing him to the ground as you screamed with excitement. Gavi had just scored the goal that put them ahead with an assist from Joao. Twitter was going to go insane.

You jumped on the sidelines, hands digging into the pockets of your jacket. You had finally taken what you see as a rather bold step and gotten yourself a Barca kit. Not just any kit - a home kit with 'Gavi 6' in bright white lettering on the back. You had yet to show it to him, wanting it to be a surprise reward. And there was no more perfect time than today. You daydreamed about his reaction, seeing his name on you. You dared to picture a wide smile, and him pulling you close, whispering in your ear how sexy you looked telling the world you were his.

You exited your daydream in time to witness the horrific scene on the pitch. Osasuna were obviously not happy with the performance of the team, and as usual, Gavi got the brunt of the emotionally charged response. They were shoving him, triple-teaming him, using every opportunity to get him on the ground. As Gavi moved into the penalty area, one of the opposing players decided that he couldn't, under any circumstance, let him score again. His arm went up, and his elbow collided directly with Gavi's right ear. The rest was in slow motion - much like the day Gavi took a knee to the groin. You watched the blunt force cause his skull to recoil, and he fell rather limply to the grass. His teammates gathered around, but you weren't going to wait to be called cover. You grabbed you bag and began pulling on your gloves, but a yell caught your attention. It was Joao's voice that got through to you, and over the roar of fans and coaches and disgruntled teammates, you made out the word 'blood' on his lips, and watched as he pointed to his ear.

You sprinted. Nicolas tried to follow, but even with his long legs he couldn't keep up with your speed. Gavi was on the ground. One arm across his eyes, and you could hear him whimper in pain. You looked around his head and saw them: the bright red drops on the grass, all stemming from the side of Pablo's head.

"Pablo, where are you-"

"Ear. From my ear."

You grasped Gavi's hand, wanting to move his arm so you could see, and he moved his hand into yours so that he could clutch it, squeezing hard because of the pain. You soon saw why. You suppressed your gasp as to not spark fear within him. His ear had been split clearly, the blunt force trauma rupturing the skin and causing heavier bleeding than you had seen in a long time.

"You need to come off, Pablo. You're bleeding badly."

"I want to stay on. It doesn't hurt terribly."

"Pablo-"

"Please. Help me stay on."

You nodded, deciding it was better to act fast than to argue. You sat him up, getting the saline and irrigating his ear from the blood. The cut was worse than you had previously anticipated, as you saw cartilage peak through before for the crimson returned once again. You continued to quickly clean and clear blood, a small mound of blood and iodine soaked gauze forming beside you. There wasn't enough time to give him stitches- even the continuous ones would be too slow. Gauze and medical tape would certainly not be enough to keep his ear covered and clean for these last 15 minutes. And plus, his cartilage was oxidizing quickly. You needed to close the cut, and given the circumstances, there was really only one way to do it.

"Can you handle a little bit more pain?" You met Gavi's wide eyes, and he gave your hand a rough squeeze and nodded gently, trying not to move his head too much. You went to pull your hand from his and were met with resistance. He wasn't able to let go.

"Nicolas, gloves on and hand me the stapler."

He handed you the machine and you instructed him on how to place his hands, closing up the flesh and overlapping the skin. You lined up the gun and repressed the urge to close your eyes. You placed four quick staples in his ear, closing the cartilage in a quick way, heart aching at the sounds he made when each one pierced his skin. You cleaned out the blood one last time, and helped him rise to his feet, met with the cheers of 80,000 culers.

"Come on - you need to be seen by Dr. G on the side before you can continue playing. Make sure they didn't crack your skull."

As you ushered him to the sidelines, the penalty review completed and granted to the blaugrana. Dr. G looked over your work, nodding to Gavi that he could go back onto the field.

"Good work, doctora. He will need reinforced stitches after the match concludes, but you're more than capable."

"Of course, sir."

The boys were all aggregated around the penalty box, clapping Gavi on the shoulder as he returned. Lewy raised an eyebrow in his direction, and Gavi gave him a thumbs up in response.

"Don't worry about me - worry about scoring." He called, falling into place beside Pedri and Joao. His Canarian friend placed an arm around his shoulder, bringing him in silently. It was a nasty hit, one of the worst in a long time, and seeing the blood stop dripping onto Gavi's jersey allowed him to finally breathe more easily.

"You okay?" Joao finally asked, eyes still trained on the preparation for the penalty attempt.

"I can still hear, so I guess I'm fine." Gavi replied, arms crossed over his chest but tone remaining light.

"Scars are sexy anyways." Pedri added, sending Gavi a suggestive look.

"Yeah, Van Gogh didn't get any bitches until that ear was gone." Joao's comment caught the Spanish boys off guard, causing them both to double over in laughter. Gavi gave him a playful elbow to the side as Pedri praised is comedy, and from the sidelines your relaxed slightly, watching your Pablo bond with his teammates. The penalty was brilliant and efficient, and after 15 minutes of you clenching Nicolas' arm and watching for a sprouting of red to emerge on Pablo's head, the final whistle sounded, and the boys approached the crowd to celebrate a hard-earned victory.

The players all shuffled into the tunnel, and Gavi quickly found you, walking with you off the field and placing a hand on the small of your back.

"I'm sorry, mi Doctora - I got blood on my kit." He said softly as the two of you walked through the tunnels, and you couldn't stop yourself from throwing both arms around him and kissing his soft pout. As you moved your arms away, you noticed the red droplets littering the light material of your staff uniform.

"It's okay, mi Pablito, looks like I did too. I can do you stitches at home, but blood is a biohazard, so we need to put this with the medical laundry before we leave."

The two of you walked to the locker room, walking into a closed area just behind that was used for medical exams.

"Can you turn around?" You asked, and he raised an eyebrow at you.

"What haven't I seen before?" He asked cheekily, and you rolled your eyes as you pushed his shoulders to make him face the wall. He peeled off his own stained shirt, toeing off his boots and rolling his socks down to relieve the pressure on his calves.

"Can I turn around now?" He asked almost mockingly, and after your agreement, he turned to face you, but meeting your back instead. It took him a moment to understand what was going on, opening his mouth to ask what was going on, but his eyes focused and the words died on his tongue. In bright white text, the saw his name curved around your shoulder blades, his number sitting perfectly in the dip of your back.

"You... my shirt?" He couldn't bring himself to articulate his question more clearly. You knew what he meant, looking over your shoulder, and Pablo was absolutely certain his brain was going to short circuit. It was like there was a halo of light surrounding you, your soft eyes behind beautiful fluttering lashes. Pink lips peaked from above your shoulder, your hair gathered to keep your back exposed. You were wearing his name. You were at work wearing his name, about to walk outside and proudly show off that you were Gavi's. And despite him saying it repeatedly, that was the moment it really clicked in his head. He had you. We were his.

And while he was lifting you up to kiss him, hands harsh on the soft fabric inscribed with his name, people were a step behind, speculating about you being Gavi's as well.

@88rizzing: ok i finally beat @/gaviraconcubine to it - look at these videos from gavis injury. is he holding the girl doctors hand??

412 likes 8 retweets 17 replies

@bigbootybarca: ???? does it just hurt that bad or are they f*******

@alanaTV: yall he's literally getting his ear STAPLED let the man hold onto something

@marcusrashfussy: isnt this the one who ppl posted after the bdor? like the one who hugged gavi?

@gaviraconcubine: ok u got me w that one @/88rizzing but have you seen them walking into the tunnel with gavi on her waist???

881 likes 37 retweets 262 replies

@88rizzing: are you fucking kidding me

@v1scab4rca: AYO??? GUYS ITS PABLO GAVIRIZZ

@4rmy-gyal-4: the bath is ready someone hand me the toaster

@arabianmadridi: at least hes not with the zionest god bless

@loonastansbrazil: @/88rizzing @/gaviraconcubine i got both of yall. i got this pic of them walking out of the stadium.

9,907 likes 424 retweets 1455 replies

The photo was one of the worst quality things on twitter. It was blurry and crooked and extremely zoomed in, but there was no doubt about the subject. Gavi was in his training shirt and his grass stained shorts, socks rolled down to his ankles and Nike slides taking the place of his usual dripped out sneakers. His head was turned to the left, his entire side profile visible. The smile that spread across his face was blinding even in the photo's limited pictures, and his fingers were threaded between those of another person. Your face was turned towards Gavi as well, distorted by your hair on your shoulder. But your back, turned squarely to the camera, was clear as Day with the large '6' contrasting the stripes. The internet was going wild at the thought that he young football star had bagged his doctor.

"Not to be the bearer of bad news, mi doctora," Pablo started, laying on your couch with his head on the pillow, injured ear in the air, "but Twitter found out that you're obsessed with me."

Your laugh was faint but audible, and your footsteps coming swiftly down Gavi's staircase. The sutures and other medications were in your hand, and you moved to sit on the couch, laying the pillow and Pablo's head across your lap.

"Well, took them long enough. I've been publicly thirsting over you forever now." You picked up your gloves and tweezers, about to begin the painstaking process of pulling out the staples so that you could drain his ear.

"Can I grab something before you start?" He said, and you paused midair. "Alright, but quickly. I don't want the numbing cream to wear off. I'm tired of you crying on the pillows."

"That was only one time!" He yelled over his shoulder, running up to his bedroom despite your please for him to not run in socks on the tile. He came back downstairs with a large book and a paper bag from the supermarket. He laid back down on your lap, snuggling his cheek into the pillow.

"Okay, I'm ready. Rip my ear open."

You pulled the first staple and watched for his reactions. of which there were very few. You took this as a sign to continue. As you pulled out the second staple, struggling not to tear his skin because it was wedged under the third, you asked.

"When did you start reading, Pablo?"

"Don't worry, it's a picture book." He giggled slightly and cracked open the book. On the first page, sprawled in boyish handwriting and black sharpie, was the title: My Precious Moments.

"What is this?"

"Keep working, mi doctora. I'll read it to you."

He hissed slightly as you pulled out the final staple, and you began the process of cleaning. He turned the first page, and you let out a laugh that surprised even yourself. The first page was your official school photo that Gavi had printed out, your wide smile and white coat looking crisp. He had surrounded your picture with red hearts, a thousand of them all over the page.

"This is Doctora y/n y/l/n," Pablo began reading, and you gently moved the iodine across his skin. "But we never call her that. We call her Mi doctora. She's the most wonderful beautiful sexy fantastic amazing girl, and she's dating you, her Pablito."

He turned the page as you threaded the nylon thread into the needle to begin closing him up. The next page was a collage of newspaper and magazine clippings of Gavi's best moments.

"This is you, footballer Pablo Gavi. Handsome, talented, and always a winner."

"You forgot humble, mi amor." You said with a smirk.

"Oh, you're right. I'll have to add that in later."

He flipped the page once again, and it was a copy of the photo you gave him for Christmas. Around it were several post it notes taped to the pages. They all said various things in Pablo's signature handwriting: 'doctora number - DO NOT LOSE!', 'see girl dr tmr morning for leg stuff', 'doctora coffee order', etc.

"This is you and doctora before she liked you. We definitely already liked her, but we're kind of stubborn."

"What are those? You asked while never taking your eyes off of them.

"They're all the notes I have about you. The ones that I kept around so I wouldn't forget."

You tried to keep the tears out of your eyes, needing one more stitch to be done with Pablo's ear. He turned the page again, and it was a collection of photos of the two of you from the Supercopa, with you and Gavi both holding onto the trophy.

"This is after doctora broke up with her crusty boyfriend. look at how happy everyone is!"

You laughed once again, having to put down the needle and just let out the joy, allowing it to take over your entire body. You picked up the stapler again, placing four quick staples in his ear as he flipped the page again. You pressed onto the newly patched ear, applying gentle pressure. The pages were filled with printed out photos: the sunset over the sea, a bush of bright pink flowers, a fluffy dog smiling widely. An array of beautiful, ordinary things.

"These are all the things we took pictures of while thinking about the doctora. The sun, the moon, bracelets on street stalls, dogs at the park, butterflies on the football field. All the beautiful things that you wanted to capture and give to her. You just didn't know why, yet."

You tapped his shoulder, indicating that he could sit up. He rested his back across the couch, lifting one arm to invite you to lay against his chest. Nuzzling into his side, your head rested against the dip connecting his shoulder to his collar. The next page was from the end of the league, all the stupid selfies the two of you had taken with the La Liga trophy.

"This is when doctora decided to stay in the club. We're so lucky that she decide to do that, because it gave us the time to grow some balls and confess to her. And also, your first La Liga win (in general and with this hottie)."

You kissed Pablo's cheek, whispering how amazing he was against his skin.

"Hold on, I'm about to get more amazing." He said, turning the page. It was only two pictures. The first was a picture of him on stage holding his Kopa trophy, smiling brightly at the crowd. The second was the one Pedri had took while you two were preoccupied with your first "I never want to let you go" kiss. The two of you were wrapped around each other, lips locked, and Pablo's trophy sitting in the bottom of the frame.

"This is the day that we finally became a man. You got a cute award, and you got the love of your life. And we better not be sitting over this and reading it because we fumbled her. Break your face before you fumble Doctora. She'll fix it for you."

The tears were flowing freely now, and you hugged closer against Gavi. You had never been treated so specially by anyone in your life. And here was Pablito, so busy and occupied with being a world class footballer taking the time to make a scrap book of you. He turned the page one more time, and it was a collection of selfies that you had taken with him at home, all cut into hearts and stick on haphazardly. But to you it was the most stunning sight in the world.

"And here you two are. In your favorite place in the world (at home on the couch) with your favorite person. In love in a way that would have made you nauseous last year. So here is a place for you to keep all the precious moments of the two of you, so that you can never forget how far you have come."

He placed the book in your hands, and moved to get up, grabbing the bag he brought down earlier. Your tear-stained cheeks were rosy, and you couldn't even begin to articulate how you felt. He sat back down, pulling you into his lap and cuddling you in his arms. His head was resting against your shoulder, peppering soft kisses to your neck.

"I know it's a little obvious now, mi doctora, but I love pictures. I don't think I ever realized how much pictures meant to me until you gave me one. But when I look at you, I wish I could photograph you every second and then play back every moment. I wish that we could be frozen in these moments, happy and feeling like there was nothing in the world besides each other. But then I realized that no matter the moment, that's how I feel. Every time I'm with you, I feel invincible. I feel like I'm at the happiest I will ever be. And it's all because of you. You are what I want beside me, forever."

He placed the supermarket bag in your hands. You reached in, pulling out a pale blue jewelry box. Your eyes widened, and you swiveled around to face your love.

"Pablo... is this... I look terrible."

"Don't worry, mi amor. It's not a ring. Not yet anyways. We can't get married while you're still in school, cause I don't want our wedding to overshadow your graduation."

"You've thought about a wedding? Our wedding?"

"Of course." He placed a long kiss to the side of your neck. "I've thought about our wedding since before we got together. We're going to get married in the summer, of course. So that we can be tan and gorgeous - not that you're not always gorgeous, but you'll just glow against the white. Like an angel. Or a princess. Or both. Forgive me if I'm wrong, but in my little fantasies before I go to sleep, you're in this long white dress, like something from Disney. And then it would be between seasons, so I can take you on a proper looong honeymoon. Four weeks in a private beach where you pack only bikinis and lingerie. Now come on open it - I got this weeks ago when we were in Madrid and you had to stay for an exam."

You opened the box slowly, not knowing what to hope for exactly. In front of you was a traditional Spanish necklace, almost resembling a rosary. It was silver and pearls chained together, ending in large silver heart with filigree etched into the metal. The lines formed into a cursive 'P' in the center.

"P for Pablo?" You asked with sniffles and tears.

"Yes of course. But that's not even the best part." He whispered, hands coming up to join yours. He grasped the heart and pulled until you heard a faint click, and it was only then that you noticed the hinges. It was a locket. You gently separated the halves, and staring back at you was a black and white photo. It was of you and Pablo, one night when you were laying on his couch like the two of you somehow always did. You were trying to fix yourself in your camera, and Pablo pulled your chin down to kiss you, and you hand snapped a picture. For a few weeks, it was his lock screen, and you had to admit you were disappointed when he changed it to a different photo. But now, seeing it here, feeling the gentle touch of his fingers against your skin as he placed the necklace on you, you had never felt more loved or in love.

"I love you, Pablo. I love being with you. I love being yours."

Those were the only words that felt appropriate at the moment.

"I love you more, mi doctora. I feel like I'm going to love you forever. And that thought used to terrify me. But now, it's something for me to look forward to. Waking up every day to love you."

He reached back into the back, pulling out a small suede pouch in the same light blue. He placed it in your hands as well.

"You're spoiling me now Pablo."

"That's my job."

Pulling the strings, you opened the pouch, reaching in and feeling metal. You pulled on the chain and it slowly rose, ending in a silver key. It was also engraved with the words 'el hogar' on the side.

"I know that we talked about you moving in, but I never want to make you uncomfortable. So for right now, this is just a necklace with a key as the charm." He hooked it around your neck, and it sat beautifully above your pearls. "And when you want, you can use it as a key to your boyfriend's house, for whatever you want really." He turned you to face him, pressing his lips right between your collar bones. "And when you feel like you're ready, it can be a key to our house."

"Our house. I like the sound of that."

His smile was infectious. "So do I."

~~~~~~~~~

A/N:

And there it is!! Just Pretend, signed sealed and delivered for your pleasure! I am really happy with how this came out tbh, and hope you all enjoy. I have exams and school for the next two weeks so I might be MIA from writing, but I should be back soon. Please if you feel so inclined leave a comment, a reblog, or a message in my ask box about your thoughts/ feelings, and see y'all soon!

*~*Taglist*~*

@l0verl4ne @vibinwkay @anastasia-nova @mxgvmiii @mads-grace4 @bubblebeep69 @katluckybear @scuderiabarca @alwaysclassyeagle @simpingmyassoff @grlwithprblms @lqvesoph @pink-manz @graziemille @xxenia14 @nngkay @icedlattewithextracaramel @gyusrose @vip-access @julianalvarez9 @lavie3nrose @ge0rg1ewaa @i8yul @lovefordilfs271 @remuslupinluver @thattaylorswiftobsessedbitch @chaotic-taco-collector-blog @kaismybabe @notanenthucutlet @fullsun9890 @venomwh0re @renaissancewhxre @gaviandgrizisgirl @altgojo @urmomdotcom5678 @eliseline @invidia-of-alhambra @pixwls @stell4rrrs @80sloverry @car1no-xx @mrsgavira @888bear @kylianmbappee @ivyhrry @gaviypedrisbride @grlwithprblms @dessxoxsworld @user6373738 @sideeblogsstuff @halaxxx @berriesaren

[elbiotipo]

I had an idea for a kids cartoon where the quirk would be it that has dinosaur characters but it's also surprisingly and inconsistently paleontologically accurate. First things first, it's set in Argentina and all the characters are Argentine dinosaur species but in a cartoon way. However, they are all dinosaurs FROM Argentina and South America, but from different time periods (Carnotaurus together with Giganotosaurus and the like). However, the species beyond appearance and some jokes don't really have any relevance, they are just normal kids and adults in a normal looking Argentine city. However it's also not quite Argentina, it is, it has the same flag and everything, but it's not in South America, it's actually Gondwana. You look at the map in the classroom and it looks like this:

But not quite, since it's Gondwana and Laurasia. Sometimes while the kids are discussing something, you hear the professors on the background talking about Laurasian colonialism and the Open Veins of Gondwana. There is a portrait of San Martín as a Argentinosaurus. Messi is an Austroraptor. However, this is never really discussed. It's just there in the background.

Something like if Stephen Hillenburg was a paleontologist.

[vicsy]

Daniel Ricciardo and tennis – a masterpost (of sorts).

To start things off, here is a video of Daniel playing tennis that I think about way too often, especially lately, with the recent paddle mania that took over the paddock.

A few things I could note here, apart from the fact that Daniel himself said that if it wasn't racing, he'd go pro in tennis:

old school-ish (european) one handed backhand which is actually rather solid! Daniel said many times that he is a big fan of Federer (a true goat) and Daniel's technique here is pretty much imitating Roger's smooth and satisfying backhand strokes.

it is just a couple of hits but ball placement court wise in not bad - all past the half court mark, down the line, then cross court and close to the baseline.

his movement on the court itself comes off a bit wonky in comparison to regular players but I do like how he attacks the short ball (even if he swings a bit too wide but it still works).

Some assortment of interesting facts:

Apart from his love for Roger Federer, Daniel was a big Andre Agassi fan.

In 2021 Daniel and Lando stayed up to watch British teenage tennis player Emma Raducanu (who is an avid F1 fan and her fave driver is Daniel) win the US Open, her maiden grand slam tournament. This was right before the win in Monza and McLaren 1-2.

In 2020, Daniel took inspiration for his "Equality" face mask from the four time grand slam winner Naomi Osaka and called her a "strong voice" (which she rightfully was). Lewis Hamilton also considered Naomi a great inspiration in raising awareness of several social issues.

When Daniel was a kid, he would smash his racquet if he lost (that's so real of him and i do that too):

Ricciardo is widely regarded as motorsport’s nice guy. But when does the mongrel come out? "I’m a born competitor. As a kid I was a sore loser. If it was a tennis match, I’d smash a racquet or something," he said, laughing. (source)

Once Daniel was playing with his cousin and apparent he got a little outplayed, so in retaliation Daniel hit his cousin point blank with a tennis ball (which hurts A LOT). His cousin cried and then Daniel's dad gave him "a clip across the ear". Daniel also talks about it in one of the Grill the Grid videos. (big thanks to @go-daniel for finding the article and the video to back this story up!)

Daniel is childhood friends with Marcus Stoinis (an Aussie cricketer) and they grew up together playing tennis, driving to Dunsborough south of Perth and they would play tennis together for the whole day, practically hogging the court. (via this post)

Now, to the photos!

Carlos and Daniel playing a tennis match in 2013. Daniel won 6-3 2-6 7-6. It's from Daniel's old twitter post.

Daniel and Jannik Sinner in Piatti Tennis Center in 2020. Jannik is an Italian darling and current world number 3 on the steady rise to the top (i love my carrot boy so much).

Daniel on court.

Daniel attending semifinals of Wimbledon 2021.

Daniel with Juan Martín del Potro during Miami 2023 Grand Prix. Del Potro, now retired, was a prominent tennis player from Argentina, a "gentle giant" and he is also a fan of Fernando Alonso.

Daniel with Matteo Berrettini (and Francesco Carrozzini in the middle), Italian tennis player, current world number 142, during Met Gala 2023 (the way i yelled when this photo dropped omg).

It is all I have managed to gather for now but I will update if I stumble upon something new.

[gadriezmannsgirl]

The White Jersey -P.G

I know I'm not feeling well but Gavi in the white Barça jersey is my weakness 😍😍

°°° °°° °°° °°°

Summary: You just love how good your boyfriend, Gavi looks in the white Barça jersey

"¡PABLO MARTÍN PÁEZ GAVIRA!" You yelled as soon as you saw him enter the hotel room "¿TE PARECE MUY BONITO ANDAR POR AHÍ DÁNDOME PAROS CARDÍACOS A CADA CINCO MINUTOS?" (Do you think it's very nice to walk around giving me cardiac arrests every five minutes?)

"What did I do now?" He asks with a light smile on his face

"Don't you dare. For starters, you are going to end up decapacitated one of these days and no one will be surprised..."You looked at him in the eye

"Like, I get football is also a brain game, you need to make up estrategies and stuffs... BUT THERE'S NO NEED TO LITERALLY USE YOUR HEAD WHEN SOMEONE'S BOOTS IS ALMOST IN THE WAY!" You yelled desperate grabbing his pillow and hugging yourself to it

"You can just use your foot, amor, ¿Sí?" You asked with a light smile "You're basically sending me to an early dead, like I shat my pants when I saw that. I didn't faint because God was having mercy on me, pero... HERMANOO" (BRO) You opened your arms wide open in disbelief watching a small smile come into his face

"Also" You continued "YOU DO WANT TO KILL ME BECAUSE I'M FREAKING IN LOVE WITH THE WHITE KIT AND OH MY GOSH!" You screamed into his pillow before letting it go "You looked absolutely ravishing like I wanted to jump on your bones everytime I saw you, which was basically everytime" You opened your eyes a little as if you were caught "You just seem like a wine, the older you get, the more sexier and handsome you are and I just can't take it!" You exclaimed looking at him

"And congratulations on the match today, you did so well, except the head onto the boot moment, I'm really happy you guys won, you deserve it" You went over to him and kissed his lips.

Even tho, Pablo was surprised with your outburst, he followed the kiss back passing his arms around your waist and pulling you into him, your lips molding into his and moving in sync.

"Did you just called me 'hermano'?" He asked in the moment you separated from him

"Is that all you got from my speech?"

"No" He smirked "I also got that you think I'm sexy and handsome each day passing and that you want to jump on my bones everytime you watch me" He wriggled his eyebrows a bit making you laugh "I want you to do that" He opened his arms dramatically "Anytime you want to" You laughed hitting his chest lightly

"Eres tonto" (You're silly) You said in between laughs making him smile

"I'm far from being your brother" He insisted, you laughed reaching up to kiss him again

"Estás dale que te pego, it was just the sprout of the moment! You know what I meant when I called you that way"

"No, I don't! Because you say hermano to your friends or to your brother and I'm not either of those!"

"You're right, you're my boyfriend" You say standing on your tiptoes and kissed him slowly hearing him hum a bit against your lips

"I am" He said proudly after you both separated from each other "And I'm so tired" He sighed moving the two of you to lay on the bed, you on top of him

"I can imagine, you were running around one place to the other and doing everything, Pablito. I really can't understand how you do it"

Pablo hummed leaving a trail of kisses down your neck as you smiled lightly "Weren't you just so tired a few seconds ago?"

"No with you by my side" You laughed "Can you tell me more of how good you think I look in the white jersey?"

"You egocentric ass" He laughs widely "You very well know how I feel about you in the White Jersey" He hums tongue sticking out to wet his lips

"It looks good on you too, mi vida. Mostly with my name on your back" You hum leaning up to kiss him

"That can be my name as well, one day; I've to wear it proudly" Gavi smiled widely nodding

"One day, it'll be"

"You're not getting away from the way you pushed your head into the other players boot, okay?"

"You looked absolutely beautiful tonight" He said inmediately hoping to get away from the long chat you'd have with him

"I know that. But don't try to sweet me up, Gavira" You said sternly but with a smile on your face "It won't work this time"

"I love you" He kissed your face "And I love how much you take care of me"

"I love you too" You kissed his lips "But, Pablo, you just can't believe yourself Superman!" He sighed

He knew what was coming and he only had to accept it and hear the lecture of needing him to be more careful, secretly loving it.

°°° °°° °°° °°°

@gaviypedrisbride

[radicalrascals]

Open: y/m has been injured by some supernatural force (might be supernatural themselves?) and is admitted to the hospital; luckily their doctor knows his way around the supernatural world, not least because he's part of it Looking for: anyone who fits a supernatural setting Muse: Juan Martín, emergency medical physician | fc: Gael García Bernal

The hospital lights flickered as Martín rushed into the trauma bay, the chaotic hum of the ER fading into the background. His patient lay on the stretcher, pale and barely conscious, chest rising and falling in shallow gasps. Blood soaked through clothes, but it wasn’t the sight of the wounds that stopped the doctor in his tracks - he recognised the injuries immediately. They weren’t ordinary. His pulse quickened, the jaguar in him stirring.

Martín’s hands moved with urgency, but his eyes, sharp and knowing, traced the strange pattern of gashes on the patient's skin. The shapes, the depth, it was all way beyond human violence. The doctors around him worked frantically, oblivious to the source of these wounds. For a heartbeat Martín’s gaze flickered golden in the pale light of the hospital. He suppressed the primal instinct to shift, to protect, to hunt. Instead, he focused on stabilising his patient, his hands warm, steady, but filled with a quiet resolve. "You're going to be all right," his voice was warm, a slight Spanish tint to his speech, "You don't have to say anything. I know."

[tryingtobemysterious]

Lizard Mukbang

Low key me because I promised my friend that I would try new foods this year :p cw trying new foods

It was your 9th day in curacao, Hamzah and Martin decided to drive into the city and try some of the local foods, they invited you to tag along as you had nothing else to do

The ride into the city consisted of you sitting off to the side while Hamzah and Martin recorded for their video. They indulged in banter with the driver, Rudolf, while you just listened in and observed the scenery

The driver began describing some of the foods and while you tried being respectful, there was no way you could avoid the nauseous feeling you had while thinking of actually consuming lizard

You made a promise to yourself that you would try all foods while you were here, usually being a picky eater and sticking to foods that you know, but it became harder when it actually came down to it

To try to get your mind off the food you began distracting yourself by laying your head on Hamzahs arm and tracing little figures on him. He acknowledged you by stroking your hair and continued talking with Martin and Rudolf

Once you guys arrived to the plaza you followed behind Hamzah while he lead the way. You let both boys order and decided just to eat off their plates in order to not waste money on food you wouldn’t finish. You did order a strawberry lemonade but that was it

You guys sat a table and shortly after the waitress brought over your drinks. The reality of trying the new foods set in and the same nauseous feeling came back you began sipping your drink more often to try and rid the feeling

Hamzah being aware of your picky tendencies tried distracting you, he took you hands into his and began massaging them

“calm down, yeah? you don’t have to try it if you don’t want to. I’m sure they sell chicken strips or something”

As much as you wanted to take him up on the offer you know you can get chicken strips back home, it’s not like trying the food is gonna kill you. You’re just being dramatic.

“ I’m fine, I know I’m being stupid I’m just nervous for no reason” you admit embarrassingly

Martín chimed in expressing the same discomfort “I feel the same the fact that it’s lizard is upsetting my stomach but I’m sure it will taste like chicken”

Soon after the food arrived and it was a relief to see no actual lizard parts were visible you would just lie to your brain that it was regular cow meat

The boys took their first bites and their reactions gave you some relief, they liked the food

Hamzah began scooping up some food for you making sure to add a little of everything from his plate, he started moving the fork towards you and you welcomed it with an open mouth. He let you take your bite before asking

“it’s good right?”

You didn’t reply just nodding your head with a thumbs up

Of course you were being dramatic it’s food, it was the thought of it being lizard slightly freaking you out

He smiled and continued eating while also giving you bites from both his and Martins plates. You guys completely cleaned off the plates and decided to keep walking around to do some exploring.

[lilydvoratrelundar]

At the heart of that magic was a question -- carried like an ember in a clamshell from creation's highest point. We are told what is possible for us. What is allowable. Who we are, who we can be, who we shall be. The stories have their patterns. The Gods have their Ragnarok. Even Thor has a Black Winter hanging over him. But... what if spring could come again? What if green shoots grew where nothing could? What if the future was unwritten, the present uncontained? What if we could go anywhere, do anything, be anyone? What if we were free? All of us. Gods and mortals. Me and you. What couldn't we do, on the day all our cages open? What would that look like? Tell me, if you can. What does the bridge to anywhere look like?

Immortal Thor (2023-) #1 by Al Ewing and Martín Cóccolo: 'All Weather Turns To Storm'

[thatonesillyducko]

CoD Ghosts OC: 𝐌𝐚𝐫í𝐚 𝐉𝐨𝐬é𝐥𝐲𝐧⭑.ᐟ - About⟢

⛧| Name: María Josélyn Ávila Diaz

⛧| Birth date: 5th December 2007 - Bogotá (Colombia)

⛧| Nationality: Colombian

⛧| Occupation: Anti-federationists

⛧| Age: 19-20 baby 🤏

⛧| Nicknames: Luna (by her father, she had a face like the moon as a toddler and in reminiscence of the moon on the fateful night) Chica débil y patética (by older teens due to her inability to shoot and fight, pathetic weakling, she was used as bullying object material for them (expect J.J) ) Estar en la luna (Because they thought she was absent-minded)

⛧| Languages: Spanish (native), English, Chibcha and Quechuan

ᯓ★Affiliation(s):

── .✦Family/Relatives:

•Father (deceased) (The deaths of both parents occurred in front of her young, innocent eyes. Imagine) •Mother (deceased) •Raúl Martín Diaz (Older brother) (deceased, shot by Fed soldier) •Félix Ávila Diaz (Younger brother) (deceased, unlikely due to sickness)

── .✦Anti-federationists:

•Juliana Jiménez Rojas (childhood friend) •Mario Jiménez (all 3 ocs belongs to @deeptrashwitch) •Camilo Ortiz Álvarez (current Commander)

ᯓ★Appearance:

⛧| Hair color: Chocolate brown

⛧| Eye color: Almond brown

⛧| Height: 5'6

ᯓ★Personality:

Still under development! stand by.. :(

ᯓ★Background:

Still under development! stand by...too :(

ᯓ★Skills:

── .✦⛧| Knows guerrilla warfare and conventional tactics

── .✦⛧| Well trained in hand-by-hand combat. Close-range combat with her knife

── .✦⛧| Learned an ability to covertly seek through heavy rainforest and tackle the enemies off with just few strikes

ᯓ★Trivia:

── .✦⛧| The youngest member of the Anti-Federationists guerrillas. She was looked after in the camp by J.J. and the older children.

── .✦⛧| Girlie literally was unlucky enough both to survive the occupation of Colombia by Federation and not able to leave the destroyed territory (she was 5 when the Feds occupied the entire country 💀that’s so fucked up)

── .✦⛧| Was really mentally strong; lost her whole family from an ambush of Federation in their area at night and her brother (sacrificing himself) was shot by Feds soldiers during a mission.

── .✦⛧| …Once again was unlucky enough to be captured by them because they killed her brother, and, why not seeking revenge?

── .✦⛧| Since people, including children, trained with the guerrillas. When she was 15, avoided open confrontation and prefers to avoid fighting whenever possible. Because she is constantly afraid of losing more people she cares about, spirals into negative thoughts. (ex. As a very young child, she saw violation for the first time and witnessed the deaths of her parents. The moment when her brother was shot by a Federation soldier and watching his death) However, she was taught how to shoot by the guerilla soldiers and not capable of using a rifle, but she would rather just run or tell them to do it.

── .✦⛧| Has been through the most difficult times and is still fighting to survive. She may consider herself weak, believing that she has given up a long time ago and is now simply existing. Yeah, crying and thinking that she's failing but still.

ᯓ★Faceclaim:

(It's a random picture, I couldn't find an actor closest to her face :( )

[flyingfabio]

motogp riders as chess openings → jorge martín

picture: eric alonso - text: chessklub

[dormarunt]

Berlin, episode 1 - a spoiler-filled live reaction/commentary 

Spoilers ahoy under the cut!

Our man wears a turtleneck from the get-go, which I find hilarious.

"This is my team - one of the three I've robbed with in my life - but this one is special to me as it's from my golden age". Maybe season 2 - if it exists - will focus on that other team? Or? The other 2 teams are The Cormorants and the Mint gangs? What do you guys think?

Also this is set before Berlin knew of his Helmers Myopathy (lol I took Liberties in my latest fic, I won't let something like canon change that)

Roi sees him as the father he never had, while Berlin sees Roi as "a loyal dog he walks every day" -- right, I'm totally going to write these two, and not just because Roi calls him "sir" and shines his shoes.

Damien is a Professor but for real.

During the first heist we see of the gang, a random guest clocks the team as "not police " in about a minute, seemingly based on Keyla's glasses/fidgeting -- okay I guess?? Make that conflict, Pina & Co!

Also iirc Berlin pulls out a bag to put the stolen artifact out of his ass thin air. 

Losing my mind at the smashed phone bit though, the panto is chef's kiss. (points pinky)

Berlin has TERRIBLE gun etiquette/safety OMG???

"Love doesn't last", says the three-times-divorcee. Believe him, before he marries two more times and unhinges his jaw to eat his beat friend's face. 

"What name did you choose?" "Cameron" -- the old gang's names are also chosen.

Pedro Alonso learned French for this okay? And he did a fine job ngl, much better than his Danish of S5.

Keyla is (at least partially) a plot device/Deus Ex literal Machina with her generating 650 pages of content about their made-up archeological gang ---- hopefully priest dude doesn't know how to double check stuff like awards because then Keyla would have to ~hack loads of sites/databases okay I'll stop but seriously 

He calls himself Berlin already. How or why? Unclear yet. 

Based on the iPod shuffle that Keyla's wearing the series takes place after 2010-2012 (so before he met Martin according to the little timeline I made a while ago)

The Berlin-Roi talk about a particular woman (Cameron) gives me Berlin-RIO (heheh) talk about Tokio

Oh no tell the guy who lusts over a girl to act as her dad instead - that's going to go WELL

The door hacking (Panasonic) device with Matrix-style flowing numbers and letters is PRIMO and not hilarious at all. (Rafael's hacking device was marginally more believable)

Three home invaders vs one angry little pup - I'm in the pup's corner!

Not a huge fan of Cameron just yet, she gives me Tokio vibes and not in a good way. She IS hot though. 

Come on Cameron, when a guy says not to touch his ass you don't take it personally?? Girl, that's not cute irl. If you wanna help him open that lock, warn him. Touching people without their consent is No Bueno. I get that she's supposed to be mentally ill but bit a creep?

Berlin is possibly an insomniac. He's not changed from the Berlin I know and love in that he feels that: 1) he's in any position to give advice, let alone about love 2) he knows all about love his experiences are universal 

(I trust Damian's take on love and kinda agree with him)

OMG THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED!!! --- and Berlin said "ew no?"

Oh Jesus Christ we were spared from another poop particle conversation but just barely (since when is the guy who fucks in stench-filled basements all squeamish?)

Period-inappropriate Imagine Dragons cover

That's why I started learning the guitar in high school, this scene right here, to have someone look at me with that wonder in their eyes. (all the boys learned to play guitar to pick up girls, years later I figured out that so did I lol)

The sights in this episode are beautiful though! <3

Berlin's philosophy on courting women is, according to my headcanon, stolen from Martín who's "an infantry general by vocation" and NO ONE can change my mind

Roi's sincere WTF look here is priceless 

All in all - yep, i'm watching the rest too (lol). Can't guarantee live reactions for the next episodes (unless requested/I have the time)

[xthescarletbitch]

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ requests ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

requests are only OPEN for kara, aloy, and camila montero at the moment. ♡ let's talk ideas and other brainrot!!

just a few things:

this is an 18+ blog

reminder that i am a lesbian and will write as such :)

i am down for nsfw requests (on that note, you'll need to be able to see mature content to read my work)

i will pretty much write anything except hard kinks, pedophilia, incest, and other stuff like that

i am definitely one to write what i want to read, so most of my writing is self-indulgent

i don't usually do character x character, but that doesn't mean you can't send it anyway

i own the right to ignore requests that i simply don’t want to do

it may take me a bit to get to requests as i am a full-time college student, but you’re free to resend if i take too long

this post is subject to change as i think of other things to say!!

character list:

reminder: only writing for kara (dbh), aloy (horizon), and camila montero (far cry 6) at the moment!

♡ = fave characters, so please talk to me about them 🙏

sevika (arcane)

vi (arcane)

jinx (arcane)

kassandra (assassin’s creed odyssey)

lae'zel (baldur's gate 3) -- not yet

minthara (baldur's gate 3) -- not yet

shadowheart (baldur's gate 3) -- not yet

karlach (baldur's gate 3) -- not yet

judy álvarez (cyberpunk 2077)

panam palmer (cyberpunk 2077)

meredith stout (cyberpunk 2077)

kara (detroit: become human) ♡

north (detroit: become human)

chloe (detroit: become human)

f!dani rojas (far cry 6)

camila “la espada” montero (far cry 6) ♡

clara garcía (far cry 6)

mercedes “jonrón” martín (far cry 6)

aloy (horizon) ♡

jill valentine (resident evil 3)

[gadriezmannsgirl]

Hiii i had a request maybe you go with gavi to sevilla to spend time with his family and like go swimming in his pool 🫶🏼

Thanks to me going to the pool yesterday (Even tho I didn't went inside the water😭), here's a small blurb (This was supposed to come out earlier since I spent my whole night awake because I couldn't sleep, but boo, miss @gavisuntiedboot published a chapter of her majestic Just Pretend series so I kinda left everything I was doing at the moment and have been re-reading the chapter over and over again because it's a masterpiece, add into the mix Uni homework and finally catching up on the sleeping hours😭)

Pool Day with the Fam -P.G

Summary: A pool day is always welcomed

°°° °°° °°° °°°

"Y/N, hija, don't you worry please. Go and enjoy" Belén had said once more but you shook your head

"I will do, Belén. In a few, just let me help you dry these dishes, you already cooked and on top, washed them" You smiled "It won't kill me helping you helping you around a bit"

"You're the best, cariño. Even my own kids forgot I'm stuck here" She pulled a face as you laughed together.

Talking about the Rey of Roma and he's here

"¿Preciosa?" You heard Pablo's voice getting close as you and Belén stood there not doing nothing "¿Bonita, estás aquí?" He came on your view as Belén was waiting for him to smack him with the drying towel for leaving her to do everything "¡Auch, mamá!"

"Aurora will get one too, eventually. How is it possible my baby Y/N, is doing everything you are supposed to?"

"You told us to enjoy today!"

"After helping me clean up!"

"Sorry, mom" He hugged her "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"Y/N already did it" You giggled seeing your boyfriend look at you narrowing his eyes

"Pero, ¿Y tú de que te ríes?" He asked getting closer to you as you were going backwards "Wanna have a real good laugh?"

"No" You shook your head already knowing his intentions

"Too bad, I do want to" He said before launching himself at you as you tried and ran away from him, Belén's laughter echoing the house.

As much as you tried it, he was a goddamn football player and he ran for a living meanwhile you... You studied to get your degree.

"Don't you dare do anything bad to my baby, Pablo Martín!" She had yelled when you yelled as he grabbed you in his arms and carried you towards the pool

"Nonono!" You yelled "No, amorcito! Please, don't throw me just now into the water, I swear I won't get mad at you anymore for you to leave the toothpaste open and squish it in the middle instead of doing it from below!"

"Too late, princesa"

"No! No! NO!" You grabbed onto him but it was failure.

The splashing sound was heard all over the Páez Gavira's backyard. Pablo, Aurora, Javi and Gavi were laughing. Until you didn't went up to scream at him.

"Amor, come on now" He said but several seconds passed and nothing "¿Amor?"

"Why isn't she coming up?" Aurora asked starting to worry

"Get her out, now" Pablo, Gavi's dad, said trying to remain calm as Gavi got closer to the pool when you jumped out of it, scaring him.

Now, you were the one laughing. Aurora, Javi and Pablo were also relieved and with light smiles on

"Puta madre, Y/N" Gavi said deeply breathing "I got so scared" You shook your head

"That's karma" You said "And this" You got closer to him grabbing his face to kiss his plump lips for a few seconds, your hands going down to his hands intertwining them "is revenge" You pulled him by his hands making him get head into the pool

You all were laughing by the time he came out to grab some air, Belén had come out with some drinks for all of you and was looking at the scene surprised and confused.

"Señorita" He said smiling

"Lo que es igual no es trampa" You said softly as he threw some water at you

"Chica, you scared us!" Aurora said sitting on the pool edge

"Your brother is mean to me, I had to do the same and get back" You smiled feeling Gavi lift your legs up and make them go around his waist, he tickled you as you squealed a little "Stop!"

"You stop saying that, everyone will believe it and it isn't true" You roll your eyes, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pushing yourself against him and kissing his neck.

"No, hermanito. Everyone can see how whipped you are for-AH!!" She yelled also being thrown at the pool by her boyfriend, Javi. We all laughed as she discretly showed her middle finger to her boyfriend

"¿Qué son esas cosas, nena? Those gestures aren't nice at a-AH!" Now, it was Belén who had pushed Javi as you all laughed histerically

"Don't mess up with my daughters, kid" She said smiling as Aurora and you cheered as she defended you both

"Go, ma!" You yell making everyone laugh.

Pablo was sneekily getting behind Belén but it seemed as if she noticed it because she turned around and the poor man quickly made it seem as if nothing

"Don't you even dare" Belén said as Pablo kissed her lovingly and threw himself into the water

You laughed as Belén smiled proudly "At least, we know who has the power in the relationship" Aurora said

"You always gotta have it" Belén

"And you always gotta let her win" Pablo said to the two youngmen with that life lesson tone, you laughed looking over to your Pablito who was laughing so carefree

"I already do that" He whispered against your lips, smiling

You started chatting and fooling around for the evening and eventually when the night hit got out of the cold water, all of you, now, in your pijamas, on the couch having a good time together.

"We should come to Sevilla more often, Pabs" You whispered distancing yourselves for a bit from the conversation his parents, Aurora and her boyfriend had going on

"You like it here?"

"I love it here" Pablo smiled widely kissing you once more

"Anytime you want us to, amor"

°°° °°° °°° °°°

Taglist: @gaviypedrisbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld